


Meeting Roman (Emile's POV)

by shnuffeluv



Series: Danger Gays: The Extras [7]
Category: Cartoon Therapy (Web Series), Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Backstory, Family, Gen, Homelessness, Inspired by Fanfiction, Internal Monologue, Remix, can it be "inspired by fanfiction" if that fanfiction is one you wrote?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-21
Updated: 2019-08-21
Packaged: 2020-09-23 11:22:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20339302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shnuffeluv/pseuds/shnuffeluv
Summary: When Emile sees a kid wandering the streets of his neighborhood, he isn't quite sure what to make of it. Surely, this kid has a home he's supposed to be in, or a school he has to go to? So why is he staring at Emile's house like it's his only hope?A scene fromWe'll Carry OnChapter 1, told from Emile's point of view.





	Meeting Roman (Emile's POV)

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [We'll Carry On](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20145283) by [shnuffeluv](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shnuffeluv/pseuds/shnuffeluv). 

> I'm not sure whether or not this will make a lick of sense if you haven't read _We'll Carry On,_ in all honesty. If you have read it, and you see the curse word, yes, Emile can and does curse, just not when children are involved. Hopefully, you like seeing this alternate POV!

Emile didn’t quite know what was going on. There was a young boy walking on his own outside, wandering the neighborhood. Now, normally, that wouldn’t be a problem. A few of the neighbors had children who would sometimes run around, or even just take walks whenever they needed to blow off steam. The only problem with this picture being it was the middle of a Thursday morning, and Emile had never seen this boy before.

Watching him wander around the neighborhood from the window gave Emile the impression that he didn’t know where he was, or at the very least he had never been to this neighborhood before. He kept looking at a piece of paper in his hands and looking at the houses around him.

Was he sick? If that was the case he shouldn’t be outside in the cold, and what would that paper be for? Why wasn’t he in school today? All the neighbors’ kids went to school on the regular, they only missed it if they were sick, and then they weren’t outside playing or wandering the street, especially not in the cold.

After a time, Emile saw the boy stop, look at the paper in his hands, and stare...straight at Emile’s house. That was doubly odd. Why in the world would this boy be interested in Emile’s house, of all places?

If the state of the boy’s clothing was anything to go by, he had been outside and had gotten dirty for a while. Emile didn’t know how, or where, but it couldn’t have been pleasant. Maybe he was looking for a place to sleep for a few hours, before the owners of the house came back. Maybe he was looking for some place to rob so that he could have a little bit of money for food. Whatever the case, Emile was certain that this boy was in trouble, and he didn’t know what to do to help.

Remy wasn’t home yet from the coffee shop, and Emile felt anxious about going outside to talk to this boy on his own. After all, he could be dangerous. And while Emile was nearly six foot, that didn’t mean he couldn’t get hurt by a knife, or a gun.

But looking at the boy, Emile didn’t get the sense that he was dangerous. He felt more like the boy was desperate. Desperate for what, Emile didn’t know, but at the very least, he might be able to offer the boy some food and something warm to drink.

The boy looked down at the paper in his hand and up at the house again, and Emile could see that he was shifting on his feet, getting ready to probably either vault the fence or walk away. When the boy seemed to come back to himself, his eyes widened slightly and he looked around as if to make sure no one had been watching him stare, and he turned on his heel to walk away.

_ Oh, fuck it. _ Emile dashed to the door and flung it open wide, yelling, “Excuse me?”

The boy turned, eyes wide and hopeful, and Emile could feel his heart breaking at the desperation that was on the boy’s face, clearer up close, and practically radiating from his body. “Young man, are you lost? I couldn’t help but notice you were wandering around earlier. I might be able to help you.”

Clearing his throat, the boy walked back over to Emile, inspecting the house behind him, and then Emile himself. “Are you Mister Picani?” the boy asked, his voice cracking and trembling, so small that Emile wasn’t even sure that he had heard right. He adjusted his glasses nervously. Who was this kid? “Uh...yes. Who are you?”

The boy seemed to gather up his courage, and took a deep breath, before saying, “Uh...my name is Roman Jackson. I don’t know how to say this, but...uh...I think you’re my father.”

**Author's Note:**

> This story is part of the [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject), which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates feedback, including:
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